They made God bleed.

They came from an infant world. Volatile and willful, God desired them gone from his perfect universe. So he placed upon their world beasts, plants, and natural occurrence--each designed to consume and destroy the newborn populace. God turned away from, content to let nature run its course and focus still on his ever perfect universe.

But they refused to die. Alone they were weak, so they banded together. They had not fangs or claws, nor tough hide to endure the elements. So they shattered and sharpened stone, killing the beasts and wore their skins and furs to survive their hostile environment. They harnessed fire to consume beastial flesh, and to drive away the ever-present cold of the dark, and tamed other beasts, training them to become further tools of conflict.

God returned to their infant world to see the abominations thriving. Irked and annoyed, God focused a little more, designing monsters, beasts that hide in the dark designed to slaughter the abominations once more. Stone shattered against tough hide, their tamed beasts fled before majesty, idle fire was no longer capable of driving the malevolent dark away. So God turned away from the disgusting world, intent on completing his projects.

But still they refused to die. Through fire they turned stone into metal, and clad themselves in iron shells, equipped themselves with sharpened blades of silver gleam, and with torch in hand their Knights drove away the dark. The monsters God created were no longer enough to slay the metal creatures they unwittingly bred, and soon were driven to extinction. Venerated and celebrated, these Knights and their lords led the way into further civilisation.

Thus God returned to the world and saw the pests yet still thriving. No longer could he afford to let them survive, for his plan required this world, but all he created to kill them only made them stronger. So he created sin, temptation, and blessed these unruly creatures with cursed existence. But thsi wasn't enough, so to prevent them from leaving their world he created a force to push them down, and prevent the parasites from joining the stars. Watching from afar, he led and changed them, so that in the end they would wither and kill themselves.

But it was all for nought. For despite God's machinations they rose further. The corruption he placed could not contain them, nor would the crushing force. They rose to the stars on ships propelled by flame, the damnable element. Their leaders slowly united, and together they began to forge an empire across the stars.

Angered now, God sent his disciples, lords and ladies blessed by him with technology, intelligence, power. They sailed the stars to the slowly growing empire, and began to purge them. Planet after planet was rendered void and lifeless, and finally God believed that these ever-defiant pests would finally be slain. Through these disciples they fell to their lowest point.

Then one of the ships of his disciples was destroyed. Then another, and another. Soon entire fleets began to fall before their Vengeful. Armed and armored, they rammed through ships at the speed of light, tearing their foes to shreds. Their batteries fired both shell and ship, tearing through protective shields, damaging the ship and sending forces to slay it from the inside. No more would they fall down.

No, NO! This could not be! His disciples had ruled for millennia, only to fall to such blasphemers! No, no more! God decreed, and so he sent his ultimate force, his cleansing fleets. Known to the universe around as the Ever-hungered Maw, a massive swarm with adaptive bodies and cold intelligence. Under God's orders they devoured entire galaxies. Leaving not even the husks of planets behind.

Aided by the swarm, the disciples once more held the upper hand. Their beasts consumed the flesh of the heretics, their weapons bounced away from hardened carapace, their tools of war shredded before powerful claws and endless numbers. Once more, these small creatures were driven to the brink. But it is through their brink that the heretics would rise again.

If the swarm would consume them, make them inedible. If their weapons couldn't pierce the enemy, they would make them stronger. If their ships, their vehicles, their soldiers of war were rent before an unstoppable force, then they would become the immovable object.

They clad themselves within shells of unbreaking metal, imbued their blades with the heat and fury of fire, their guns grew in caliber and size, each shot capable of tearing through hordes of infantry. They're vehicles and ships grew in size, as did their batteries and missiles. And with a fury and fervor that felled all before them, their Knights rose once more to lead them to salvation. The disciples were finally slain, and the numberless, ever-empty swarm had  finally found creatures they could not consume.

They took further to the stars, claiming and restoring dead planets. Colonizing them and defending them. They thrived once more, creating an empire spanning multiple galaxies, well defended and ever-growing in power and danger. They had learned now, that they would never have peace and as such created further tools of war and mayhem.

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God was furious now. No more would he allow these miniscule creatures to defy and pervert his ordered universe. With his almighty power he created violent storms within the vacuum of space, he sent his angels--servants born for the very purpose of purging everything. His rage manifested itself as demons, creatures of infinite power and hatred, truly numberless and ultimately unkillable, they tore through His hated enemy. Finally, he created copies of them, beings that exist in exact parallel to His enemy, and mirror them exactly. His foe would finally face themselves in battle.

The angels descended, they tore entire galaxies apart, claiming themselves heretics, blasphemers that God had demanded slain. The demons arose from the ethereal plane, tearing through their forces, unworried about death, for the enemies' weapons could not affect the ethereal. And the Black Mirror brought their sires to a halt, bringing with them every tool of war they could make. Each of them obtained blessings and gifts from God himself, and God knew that His hated foe is not long for his universe.

But God was wrong. Instead of faltering, of fleeing before God's unending fury, of laying down their lives upon learning that the very creator of the universe had deemed them wanting, The Children of The Sun rose ever higher. His angels, beings that were meant to lead and protect would not protect them, so they created their own Angels. Clad in armor and wings, and altered so their minds can grow enough to bend reality away from God. For the demons they crafted undying war-machines. Powered by electronic souls, forged with holy fire born from their very souls, they tore through the ethereal foe. Aiding those Devastators were their own Demon-forged, soldiers capable of tearing through the ethereal through sheer willpower, equipped with armor imbued with the souls of the very enemy they face. Together the two forces held the line, and demons could no longer harm their empire.

But what of their foul copies? How would they defeat their own shadow? Their Angels were equaled by the Mirror. Their Devastators and Demon-forged matched easily. Their war-machines, ships, vehicles, each matched soldier to soldier. In the end, their Knights did as they always had, from the earliest days lighting up the dark, they marched forward powered by something the enemy could not replicate. A part of the universe that no longer acquiesced before God's will.

Where the Knights would tread, so to would Fire follow in their wake. The Knights sheared through the blackened mirror with Burning blades. Their Angels, imbued with wings of Flame, rent God's most devoted and powerful servants from the skies. The Devastators carved through demonic lines with weapons and bodies forged from Fire most hot, and the Demon-forged called upon the element of Fire itself, burning that which remained.

But the Children of the Sun were not done yet. No, now they had a name along with the unseen force that ever-haunted them. God himself demanded them dead, so they would kill God. Luckily they would not have to look for him.

God was done. His rage monumental, he himself descended upon the mortal plane. Mere looks of his could slaughter entire sections of existence, a wave of his hand would send waves of existence to crush his enemies. And his words were enough to blot out suns. No mortal force could face God and slay him.

So the Children of the Sun created their own gods. They created an entire galaxy of psychics, hidden from god, whose existence served one purpose. To clash their will against God's enough so that they could combat him. A rift was formed across existence as the two powers clashed. Even as their soldiers rose to battle the creator of existence.

Billions upon billions of their warriors fell before The Creator's might. Billions of fleets were destroyed. Trillions of planets. But in the end, one Knight came close enough to God to strike. This Knight carried within his blade the hopes and despair of a race hated by God. it carried the fury of their fallen, the love and power of Fire, and the desire of an entire, inter-galactic species to slay the creature that stood before him, and they finally do the impossible.

The Children of the Sun Made. God. Bleed.

Everything seemed to stop for a moment, as God felt for the first time pain. Finally, God screamed in terror and fled, his fear turning into an imprisoning force that trapped the Children of the Sun in unbreaking stone. Ironically, it was God's fear and fleeing that finally allowed him to defeat his foe. Or at least slow them indefinitely.

Now however, God was gone, far too fearful to look upon his creation again, and now new threats began to spawn. God's fear created a new brand of demon, one that inspired terror and horror. The rift formed by the Foe and God began to spawn abominations, creatures that destroyed and consumed and perverted reality. Gods angels became mindless drones, and the demons spawned of his wrath began to wreak havoc across existence as the Swarm began to consume everything around them.

But the Children were not forgotten. For the Swarm always strayed from worlds, ships, and soldiers of the creatures they could not consume. Demons all alike surrounded worlds of the Children, but dared not land and change them. The Abominations treaded not upon their creator's empire, for fear of the force that created them, and the angels actively fled from those who defeated their God. The Children of the Sun were victorious.

And they were not defeated yet. For while they are imprisoned they cannot be die, and so they have all the time in existence to plan, to test, to grow as they always had. Eventually, they would break free. They would rise again. So long as their Will remained unbroken, the Children of the Sun would rise once more.

And Mankind will never break.